After The Storm
by Chelseainspace
Summary: After everything they've been through, they just want rest. But rest isn't to be found in Beacon Hills. Not for Derek Hale or the newest Were to stumble up. Is she here to be in his pack, or for shelter she can find no where else? Derek/oc. Rating to cha
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

AN: So, I guess we've all got some time to kill here, huh? No Teen Wolf until Twenty effing Twelve. So, here I am, breaking out the old Fanfiction faze and writting. I decided to do a Derek/oc because, well Tyler Hoechiln in so hot I'd lay at his feet and he's the only one I could think of a plot for. So, buckle up babies, its going to be one hell of a ride.

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...

There was someone on his property, someone whistling as they trotted around his private land. 'Ignore it.' He told himself, pressing his eyes back shut and finally pulling a pillow over his head. He could still hear it. He groaned, rolling over and trying to go back to sleep. After the week he'd had, after everything he'd been through, that was all he wanted, sleep. Glorious sleep.

But that fucking whistling was the most annoying thing he'd ever heard. It permeated his mind, even through his flimsy pillow shelter. The stupid little melody made his ears ring and he had to resist the urge to claw at them as his anger rose.

He just wanted to sleep. Was that too much to ask? Just him, in the woods, on his posted, private property, in bed, asleep. Middle of the day or not, he deserved to sleep!

Growling, he threw the pillow off his head and quickly tugged on his jeans. He was going to find who ever was traipsing around his land and make sure they never whistled again. No matter what he had to do.

Once he stepped out of the shell of a house it was easy to find the trespasser, the whistling they did leading a trail to them. As he neared he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, clearing his face and turning into the thicket of trees the sound was in.

And they're they were, the whistling devil that ruined his sleep. And they were a... Girl?

Derek's brow raised, an almost visible expression of shock in his eyes. He hadn't expected his annoyance to be female. He couldn't beat the whistle out of a girl.

He watched her for a moment as she sat in her own little world under the shade of a tree. She was relatively bundled up in the Winter chill, tight jeans tucked into knee high black laced moccasins, a thick hunter green cardigan over a white vneck longsleeve. She had a set of grey lace gloves on her hands and an oversized newsboy cap that matched, It went over her ears ad her hair seemed to be tucked into it. Her head was leaned back against the tree in a picture of relaxation, her face hidden in a slant of shadow.

She took a stop in her whistling and Derek finally took a step into the area, his arms crossed. "This is private property." He said loudly, stopping when he was a few yards away.

The girl gasped, jumping up and placing a gloved hand at her chest. Her heart beat wildly and her hat tumbled off her head in the rush. "You...you scared me!" She said, her voice light but breathless.

Derek's glare softened as he studied her. She looked like a doll. Her skin was fair with almost invisible freckles over her nose and cheeks, which were tinged pink with an embarrassed blush. Her cupids bow mouth was turned in a perpetual pout and she looked at him with big, wide, innocent blue eyes.

The hand that was pressed against her chest moved up to push her pale blonde hair out of her face and she let out a shaking breath. "I'm sorry, I didn't know." She apologized, crossing her arms to hide her shaking hands. Derek watched her closely, there was something off about her. "I thought they were just...woods." She was looking down at the ground, the toe of her boot shuffling a stick on the leaf covered forrest floor.

Her heart was beating fast, the sound echoing in the break of woods. It was pounding in her chest like a caged bird, her body tight as if she were waiting for him to pounce. Her big eyes flashed up to his for a fraction of a second, the big blue orbs clashing with his narrowed green ones. She took a sharp intake of breath, her small nose twitching.

And then she bolted.

Her feet hit the forrest floor like they were on fire, the wind whipping her blonde hair back and her hat completely forgotten before him.

Derek was able to stamp down the urge to chase her, until he noticed just how fast she was going. Far faster than a human should be able to.

It seems his sleep was going to have to be postponed.

He tore after her, much quicker now that he was an alpha. But with her small size she was far more slippery.

She ran on her feet, and he did too, following as she jumped over bushes and made sharp turns around trees. She didn't chance any glances behind her as she ran, a smart move, but Derek could hear her breathing come in pants. The smell of her fear and nerves made him run faster, almost catching her.

But then she hit the road, a black motorcycle waiting by the side. She wouldn't have a chance to start it though.

She turned sharply, leveling a shockingly painful kick to the center of his chest. It knocked him back, slamming him against a tree as she put herself on the bike and kicking it on. The run and the kick took the breath out of him and he let out a growl as she zoomed off.

Just before she was out of range she turned around, giving him a glance of her big eyes glowing and her sharp canines peeking out of her pouty mouth.

Groaning as he slid down the tree, Derek cursed, his claws tearing at the bark behind him. "I'm never going to get a break." His chest still ached and he turned back to the spot he'd first saw the whistling girl, reaching down he grabbed the hat she left and rubbed his chest.

The girl had packed quite the kick, and now he had her scent. His eyes glowed red as he stared down at the hat, he'd find out why another Were was in his area. He was Alpha now, he was in charge. He didn't need a random girl wrecking havoc while he was still trying to solve the last of it.

.

...

"Shit, Shit, shit." The blonde cursed, letting the black motorcycle slide to a stop as she left the woods behind. And left the Alpha as well. "Son of a bitch!" She slapped her own legs, hissing as she felt the sting of her claws slice through her jeans. She watched with blank eyes as the cuts fuzed back together, not leaving the faintest mark behind. Taking a deep breath she calmed herself, her teeth returning to normal and her nails slidding back to the normal manicured tips. She frowned at her gloves, but pushed it away. There were bigger things to worry about than ruined accessories. Like making enemies with an Alpha on first sight. "Stupid, stupid girl." She growled, pushing her hair out of her face. She should have stayed, or let him catch her, or at the very least she shouldn't have kicked him. "Oh God, if he thinks I challenged him I'm dead!" She whined, aware she was talking to herself but not caring much. She was too busy berating herself for traveling into the woods to care. She hadn't expected there to be another Were in the medium sized town, it didn't even have a Starbucks for Christ sakes, but apparently it had a werewolf. She clenched her fist to tamp down on her anger. She'd been too quick to pick Beacon Hills as her new home, drawn by the woods and small size. She should have known it be a werewolf haven. She growled and grit her teeth, trying to figure out her next move. She could go back to town and the tiny house she'd spent most of her cash on or she-

Was cut of by the sound of tires behind her and she almost screamed in fear, her body going stiff as she turned slowly to look behind her. Praying with all her might it wasn't the Alpha.

A police cruiser. 'Can today get any worse?' She asked, shaking her head and turning the bike off under her. She glanced down and spotted her helmet still hooked to the side of her bike, with a hard press of her heel she broke the thin chain that kept it there, making it look like she just took it off.

"There aren't many motorcycles around Beacon." The officer said calmly as he walked up to her side, he had a kind smile on his face and the blonde shot one back. "You passing through or are you new here?" He didn't have his ticket book out, but it could always be in his back pocket.

"I'm new." She answered quickly, her hands on her lap, one foot was on her helmet the other on the ground, balancing the bike. "And so is the bike." She gave a laugh, praying she didn't arise suspicion. She didn't need an alpha and the cops on her.

"I'm sure you'll like it here." The officer, Sheriff Stelinski, was all smiles as he asked to see her liscence and registration. Both things she pulled out of a secret compartment by the back tire. "A Ducati, pretty expensive Miss..." He looked at the name and the blonde attributed his confusion to the spelling.

"Its Ofelia, just like in Hamlet on the spelling is Spanish, as is the surname, Rosénte." The liscence was Australian and Sheriff Stelinski handed it back with a raised brow.

"How long have you been in America, Miss Ofelia Rosénte?" He asked, crossing his arms. Ofelia knew why he asked, a clearly American girl,

with no accent and a Spainish name. It was quite the mix.

"Just a week, sir." She lied carefully, not knowing what the rules on liscence change was in the area. "My bike just got here from my home in Australia and I was taking it for a spin." She gave her best innocent smile, placing her papers back where they belonged.

The man tapped his boot on the side of her helmet giving her a knowing look, "Without this? You could get hurt, Miss Rosénte, your too young to be so reckless."

Ofelia smiled, pointing to the phone that laid in a dock on the handle bars. "I got a call and pulled over, it was my father." She made a show of pointing that the helmet was laying on the road, as if she'd only just taken it off.

The Sheriff chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "If only I could get my teenager to answer his phone, though I'm glad you pulled over." He nodded to the girl, crossing his arms back as she wonder why he pulled her over.

Ofelia shrugged, "Well, I guess when you turn 20 the teen angst fades away." She laughed, nodding her head stopping when she realized she looked like an idiot. "So, is there a reason you stopped?" She asked, trying not to seem rude.

The Sheriff took a step back, "Just the helmet and the fact that the bike was out of place, Miss." He told her, "You'll need to goto the Department of Motor Vehicles soon and get those liscences taken care of soon though." He nodded, clapping his hands.

The noise made her flinch, but she hid hit with a jerky nod. "Yes, sir." She agreed, grabbing her helmet and placing it on her lap. The Sheriff didn't move though, just stood there almost awkward. She could smell a hint of anxiety as he rubbed the back of his neck again.

"If you don't mind me asking, your name...and your accent, you don't sound Australian or Spanish." He waved a hand at her and she smiled.

"I was adopted, shortly after I was born. My adoptive parents moved us to Sidney, Australia when I was 16." She kept her smile in place as she lied smoothly, laying a hand on her helmet.

The Sheriff gave another nod and a small smile, before finally motioning for her to go. She tugged her helmet on and kicked the motorcycle into gear, pulling out of the woods and finally out of the Alpha's path.

Sheriff Stelinski slid into his cruiser just as Derek Hale's Camaro drove past him, he resisted the urge to give chase.

Stiles had been quick to admit that Derek hadn't been at the school, and hadn't murdered those people. Scott had agreed, saying he didn't know why he'd accused Derek Hale when it had been Peter Hale.

The body that his son had pointed out in Peter's old nurse's trunk had proved the man was a murderer, the only problem was that they couldn't find him.

And even after he'd been questioned, Derek proved to know nothing.

.

...

Ofelia locked both dead bolts to her small house's door, as well as the chain and handle. Her breathing was heavy from running up the stairs.

She was tired of running though, so very tired.

She'd lost everything she'd ever loved, and now she just wanted a moment of peace. Of freedom. Rest.

But it seemed Beacon Hills was not where she was going to get that rest, not with an angry Alpha. Who knew how many betas he had in his pack, but she knew she didn't want to be one of them.

Not after her last pack. Not after her first family.

Sighing, she took off her moccasins and kicked them in the corner, leaving a trail of clothing in the hallway as she slugged her way to the bedroom. Boxes littered the house, waiting to be unpacked but she paid them no mind as she slid betwen the clean white sheet. Her head sunk into her pillow and her eyes slid shut, the last thing she saw was the necklace on her nightstand, holding the locket she couldn't bring herself to touch anymore.

.

...

AN: And we're clear! So, there's chapter one. Short, I know. But I wanted to get it up there. Leave some reviews so I'll know if you want me to continue or not... I've got some ideas for this fic, but idk if they're any good. The best thing about writting this fic is that its one of the first, which means the cliches have yet to be set! So, give it to me babies, and the new chapter will be up before you know it! Alsi, vist me at chelsealeainspace on tumblr for special updates and pictures. And now one of Ofelia. :) 


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: I donot own Teen Wolf.

**An**: I love when ff decides I don't need bold or italics in my stories. No, its cool. Just pull those right out. Thank you all for the reviews, I thoroughly enjoy reading your feedback. And yes, it is Gemma Ward I imagined Ofelia after. Also, this chapter opens with a little bit of the teens, so you can get a feel of what's going down.

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...

"Hey."

"Hey."

Scott looked over at his best friend, who simply sat on the lunch bench, pushing his food around with a heavy air. The events of the Winter Formal had been hard on them all, and where as Scott had at least gotten a little smidge of happiness out of it, Stiles had gotten none.

"Any word on Lydia yet?" The young Were asked, picking up his fork but not doing much with it. He wanted good news on the strawberry blonde, but already knew it would be bad.

Stiles just shrugged, stabbing a piece of brocili with an almost vicious movement. "She's breathing. The doctors put her in a medically induced coma, her seizures have stopped but not much else good has come." He looked up and met Scott's gaze with a blank one. "You here from Derek?"

The other boy shook his head, "Not since he got out of police questioning." He answered honestly. It had only been a week since the winter formal, and it had only been four days since he'd last seen Derek Hale. The older male's glowing red eyes had seemed far more dangerous than Peter's had been. "He told me he wouldn't force me into a pack, that eventually I'd come to him."

Stiles was quiet for a moment, staring at a dot on the table as if it held all the answers to the universe. "And?" He asked softly, never looking up. "Will you?"

Scott just shook his head, "I don't know."

.

...

Her paperwork was in, all forged but all perfect.

Ofelia Rosénte was now an American citizen and all it took was a trip to her mail box.

One she took with the _utmost_ paranoia.

Not because forging documents was beyond illegal, but because their was an Alpha somewhere around her and it made the blonde beyond nervous. It made her careful too though. She'd kept her doors all locked and her blinds pulled tight, not that any of that would be much help. She'd seen the strength of an Alpha before, he could tear through her one bedroom cottage like it was a plastic playhouse.

And as she sipped her coffee, sitting on the empty kitchen floor, she wondered if he would.

Her last pack had been monsters, and she had fit right in. They'd held a home the out back of Australia, hunting and killing whatever entered their land. It had been a dirty life, but it had also been one that was held off the grid. _No one _had been able to find them and if they did, they didn't live to tell about it.

They had been outcast Weres. Ones that couldn't live in cities or towns with normal lives and day jobs. Ones that couldn't be around people. But they were gone now, and she was the only survivor.

She wouldn't fall prey to pack life again. Packs were easy to find, ties got you scars and nothing more.

Downing the last of her coffee she stood and placed her mug in the sink, gathering her paperwork and trudging to her bedroom. She had a job interview in twenty minutes and she didn't plan to miss it.

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...

She was a very good hider, but she didn't take heed to the one problem with living in a relatively small town. People talked. And they talked loud.

After only ten minutes in the parking lot of the hair salon, Derek heard what he was looking for breeze through the open windows of the shop.

"Oh yes, a young thing to! In her _twenties_." One female voice said, a realestate agent for the area. "She bought the little cottage on the outs of town, in _cash!"_

Derek smirked, shaking his head. Cash left no trail, but it did leave suspicion.

"Its not finalized, yet though." The woman continued as he was about to start his car, "She's coming to my office tonight, to finish the papers up. She didn't have all of her paperwork yet, from another country you know."

Derek stilled his hand on his keys, she hadn't had her paperwork? He assumed she was waiting for forged documents to arrive. She'd paid in cash for a home in the middle of the woods and hadn't had her papers at the ready. She was hiding something. And that something had to be trouble.

With a growl he turned his car on and backed out, ignoring the women's voices as they chattered about whatever is was women felt the need to discuss.

He had a problem to fix, and he knew just where to find her.

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...

"Yes ma'am, I do know how to use an electronic card catalog system." Ofelia nodded, smiling at the elderly woman across from her.

Muriel Spin was set to retire next week, leaving her job as the librain for the Beacon Hill's library open for the taking. And the blonde was the only one who wanted to take it.

Mrs Spin smiled in that old lady way and folded her hands in her lap, "Good, because it took me _half a year_ to figure the damn thing out I'd rather not have to teach it to anyone." She nodded to Ofelia, who just laughed. She'd learned how to use a computerized card catalog in her last year of High School in New York, when she was hiding there amongst the millions.

But Muriel didn't need to know that.

"Why don't you take a little tour 'round the shelves, deary while I busy myself with setting you up in the computers?" The elderly woman suggested as she rose. Ofelia knew she was going to do a background check, and she knew she'd find a spotless record.

Her forgers were seamless, it would tell the woman she'd been a United States citizen for three days and that she'd been perfect in Aussie. She even had faked school records, and thankfully a new liscence.

_'No need to have Sheriff Stili_

_nski on my trail_.' She thought as she trailed through the aisle, scanning the books.

It was when she got to an aisle dedicated to the supernatural that she paused.

The books ranged from new to old, the aisle housing everything from foolish supernatural romance novels to ghost stories. But there was one book on the bottom shelf that caught her attention.

Worn at the spine and old, it was half off the shelf as if it had been hastily shoved there. She knelt down careful of her tight, knee-length pencil skirt, and plucked the book.  
><em><br>__**A History Of Werewolves, Lycans, And Their Hunters.**_

Her brow furrowed as she flipped to the back, pulling out the card that held its past check-outs. Only ten people in the past twelve years the book had been there. And the most recent three had been marked out with black marker, but the dates stayed in the open.

They'd all checked out the book in the past month.

Her eyes scanned down the list and suddenly stopped on the one name she never wanted to see.

_Argent_.

.

...

There was no one home.

Nothing but boxes filled the house, but there was a bed in the only bedroom and a couch in the center of the small livingroom. Derek had followed a trail of discarded clothing to the bedroom to find a messy bed in a vanilla scented room. He found a manilla envelope on a nightstand and snatched it up.

Inside was quite the stash of documents.

Mulitiple birth certificates that all held different names, but the same year of birth, and the social security cards that went with them. As well as an envelope housing more than a dozen identification cards. All held a picture of the girl he'd almost caught yesterday, but they were all under a different name.

They ranged from several states when she was seventeen until she was eighteen, then the cards switched to Canada, and finally, Australia acounted for the newest card. He tucked them all away and back in the folder, pulling out the last sheet.

It was blood stained and unreadable, but it was a certificate for live birth, the blue edging blurred purple.

He assumed from the aged look that this was the true paper, but other than a birthdate of March 19 and that her father's name was William, he was given no information.

He stuffed them back away and placed the folder back on the nightstand.

With a frown he tossed the hat on the bed as a show he'd been there and exited from the back door. He'd find more out about this _'Ofelia'_, if that was her real name.

And if she were a threat, he'd remove her.

.

...

"And the Argents? What about them? Have they just given up?" Stiles questioned as he sat at Scott's desk at his home, throwing a lacrosse ball from hand to hand. The hospital had told him no visits for Lydia today, and he need his best friend to distract him.

Scott was happy to oblige, feeling a small part guilty for all that had happened. It wasn't his fault though, he had no control over Peter and his actions.

"I don't know, Allison's dad didn't kill me, but Peter killed Kate and that could bring more out." Scott answered, staring at his ceiling. "I don't know what to do, I have Allison back, but her Dad still wants to kill me." He crossed his arm over his head, groaning.

Stiles threw the lacrosse ball at him. "So what happens if the Argents set Beacon Hills as their 2011 family reunion spot?" He asked, pretending that he didn't throw the ball. "You think they'll get you?" He leaned back in the chair, watching his friend.

Scott sighed, "If more come...I'll have to join with Derek." He answered honestly, "I've learned my limits, I can't do this on my own."

"He knows that more are comming." Stiles suddenly blurted, eyes wide. Scott sat up ad gave him a confused look. _"Derek!_ Derek knows! That's why he isn't making you join! He knows you'll have to come to him!"

Scott just groaned again, wrapping his arms around his head as he flopped down. The last thing he needed was more Argents.

.

...

The last thing she needed was more Argents.

The Argent who had checked out the book had been a woman named Kate, and she had checked it out seven years ago. But she could still be lurking in town.  
>After writting down the name of the book in her phone, Ofelia had met Muriel at the front desk, thanking the woman for the job. The elderly librian had thanked her in return and had told her she started Monday at six am, and not to be late.<p>

As soon as she'd left the building Ofelia stopped at the phone booth on the side walk, peeling open the directory and scanning the names.

No Argents resided in the pages and she breathed a sigh of relief. But her relief wasn't long lived.

An old newspaper page laid on the floor, holding a week old article from the front page.

Gazing down she read what was unsmudged.

A woman was found dead.

A woman who was possibly the arsonist for a house fire that had killed a dozen people.

A woman who was found in the ruins of that house.

A woman who was none other than Kate Argent.

"Well, I guess I don't have to worry about _her_ anymore." The girl muttered quietly, grabbing her motorcycle helmet from atop the phone. She gave one last glance to the paper memorizing the names.

Apperantly the housefire had held only three survivors, one female, who was now dead, and two males. Peter and Derek Hale.

She made a note to try to find out as much as she could about the Hale fire.

It seemed her new job as a librarian was a good choice for her investigative streak.

Slidding onto her bike she waited as a black Camaro passed her before pulling onto the road. She didn't know why, but the car and its tinted windows gave her a nervous shiver.

.

...

Ofelia was careful as she browsed through the supermarket, keeping her eyes everywhere. She could never be too safe when it came to being in public.

She clutched the handle of the elbow basket with a nervous grip, throwing in the things she needed right then. She made a note that the next time she went shopping, she'd do it early in the morning or late at night. The six o'clock, fresh from work crowd was making her jumpy.

Gritting her teeth to keep from twitching, she reached up for a container of coffee. Her hand brushed someone elses and she jumped back as if the coffee had burst into flames.

Shocked by her movement, the other woman gasped, pulling her hand to her chest as if she too had been burned.

Hidding her now clawed fingers behind her back, Ofelia gave the woman a very shaky laugh. "I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention." She pushed her hair from her face and looked at the scrub clad woman.

She laughed as well, "You pulled away so fast I thought something _bit_ you!" She was an older woman, with a name tag penned to her chest.

_Melissa McCall_.

"I'm a little jumpy lately." Ofelia offered, grabbing the coffee and handing it to the older woman. She accepted, throwing it in her buggy. "Maybe I should switch to de-caff." She smiled, and the woman smiled back.

"I think I should take the same route." The woman replied, even though she had accepted the coffee. Ofelia reached up and grabbed another container, putting it in her basket. "Are you new?" She suddenly asked, tilting her head. "I've never seen you before."

The blonde bit the inside of her mouth, but still answered. "Yes, I just moved into town yesterday." She told Melissa, arranging her coffee around the other foodstuffs nervously. "Well, I made it here day _before_ yesterday, at around eleven."

The woman nodded, leaning against her buggy in a pose that signified she wished to speak longer. Ofelia almost groaned allowed. "Really, where from?" She asked, genuinely interested. The young Were wished a hole to appear in aisle Seven, that would suck her down it.

"Sidney, Australia." She smiled, watching the McCall woman's eyes go wide as she whistled lowly. "I've lived there most of my life." _'Most of my life as a Werewolf at least.' _She thought, wondering how long the woman would want to talk for. Surely not long.

Hopefully.

Melissa bobbed her brunette head, "How nice. I've always thought Sidney was beautiful." She smiled wide and Ofelia just nodded. She'd lived in the outback, the only times she'd been in Sidney were on her was to the docks for the boat rides to and from America. "How's the Opera house? Did you ever go?"

Ofelia almosy squealed in gratitude as a young male, his scent proving him to be Melissa's son, showed up to drag her away.

_"Mom_, I've got a date with Allison tonight, come _on_." He whined in typical teen fashion. He didn't even look Ofelia's way as she grabbed a jar of Coffeemate. "I don't want to be late."

Melissa smiled, "Kids." She told Ofelia, obviously ignoring the fact that the girl was visibly in her early twenties. "I'm Melissa McCall, by the way." She introduced, extending her hand. "And this is my son, Scott."

"Ofelia." The blonde answered simply, shaking the woman's hand. Scott gave her a nod, and she returned it, never giving him a second glance. "It was nice meeting you." She said politely and Melissa returned the sentiment before being dragged away by her son.

Ofelia sighed, running her hand through her hair. She needed a drink. She should have had her id forged to say 21.

.

...

He followed her through the aisles of the market, watching as she unknowingly spoke with Scott's mother. A beta werewolf couldn't scent another werewolf, so she stood with in arms reach and didn't even know.

He threw random items in his buggy, as not to arouse suspicion as he followed his prey. As that's what the girl was now. _Prey_.

She only got a few items, mostly frozen foods and pastas with jarred sauces. She got a two liter of Coke, but her eyes lingered on the liquor aisle for a moment.

He understood her want. It was stressful being what they were.

When she got the the register she paid in cash, throwing a Cosmo magazine on the belt as her purchases were rung up.

She didn't even notice him watching, but he noticed the people watching him.

He left his buggy and followed her out.

He'd parked his Camaro far from her bike, even though he'd drove past her once already. She didn't know his car.

She slid the brown paper back into a backpack and looked up at the darkening sky, Derek did too.

It was going to rain.

When he looked back down she was already speeding off, she'd distracted him.

_She knew_.

.

...

Ofelia was careful of traffic laws as she passed through a yellow light, zooming on the road. The speed limit was 40 and she stayed going just that.

The Alpha was three cars back, the engine on his Camaro loud.

She'd smelled him the minute he walked out of the store behind her, his scent passing her on a small wind. She'd pretended to not notice, looking up at the sky. When he looked up too, she bolted.

It seemed the Alpha of Beacon Hills was easy to trick.

She turned into her wooded driveway sharply, almost crying in relief as the black Camaro didn't turn in after her.

She parked the bike under the small overhang, forgoing the extra cover as she darted to her door.

She pulled her keys to the lock with shaking hands, her helmet still on her head. But as she grabbed the door knob to the back door, the door slid open.

It was already unlocked.

_Someone had been in her house._

Taking off her helmet, she put her head in the door, listening carefully.

Nothing. No heart beat, no footsteps.

But it smelled just like the alpha had.

Woodsy and smokey, dark.

"Son of a _**bitch!"**_ She threw her helmet on the ground, growling as she shrugged out of her bag. The back door opened into the kitchen and she placed it on the counter there.

Smelling the air she stomped through the house, slamming open her bedroom door.

He'd invaded her space, he'd broken into her home.

He'd put her hat on her bed?

She picked the thing up and sighed. He'd followed her scent.

But she knew he hadn't tracked her just to return her hat. He'd left it to show he'd been there, even though his scent hung thick in the air. He'd left it to intimidate her, just like when he'd stalked her through the market.

She was his prey now. And he _wanted_ her to know that.

Before, she had been afraid, worried by what he'd do. But now that he'd issued this insult, she was furious.

She'd wait for his next showing with no fear. Alpha or not, she was _no ones_ prey.

.

...

Derek waited in the woods, smirking as she cursed.

Her emotions had gone from fearful to enraged. He'd hoped that she leave, but it seemed she took his presence as a challenge.

_Good_. It would give him something to occupy his time with.

At least until the other Argent's came.

Getting back into his car he watched as a silver Porsche sped past him.

Maybe he should pay Jackson a little visit, after all they still had unfinished business.

.

...

**An**: Well, there's that. Only a tad bit longer. I added the bit about Scott and his mom because I wanted to show that werewolves couldn't sense other werewolves, I kept it to only betas though. And yes, her job as a librarian will come in handy. And no, Muriel the librarian will never show up again. I'm sorry if you got attached. That bit about Jackson, well you'll have to wait and see. ;) So, there you go. Leave a review to make me write faster. 


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